Misguided Heroes
by LizardBot
Summary: When had that happened? When had they gone from playing the heroes to being the villains? Chlollie & Chloom. Oneshot. Slight AU.
1. Chapter 1

_Fast Fading_

-

He pressed his lips to hers in a clumsy kiss, hurried and desperate. A hole was forming in the pit of his stomach, hollowing him out as guilt ate away at the edges. This was his fault—he'd done this.  
He pulled back to stare down into her face, draining of all color as she visibly fought to keep her eyes open; twin pools of green that had begun to blur with liquid emotion. There were tear tracks on her pale cheeks, but they weren't of her own making.  
"Don't cry," she whispered, and up until that point he hadn't even been aware of the tears gathering at his chin. Her fingers brushed them away, and it killed him to see how much effort the simple action took to achieve. His much larger hand caught her smaller one, and he squeezed it.  
"Oliver?" she whispered, her voice small and weak, "thank you for…for everything."

Oliver ground his teeth as he stared down at her, his expression bitter and his blue eyes accusing. Chloe knew exactly what he was thinking, but in that moment, she couldn't disagree more. His fingers pressed down harder on the area from which his arrow once protruded, as if to emphasize his point. _You're thanking your murderer_.

She cried out, screwing her eyes shut so that tears leaked past her lids and trailed down her temples. But when her eyes blinked open, she stared up into his face without resentment or anger or any emotion that a victim should feel toward her attacker. In that moment, the only thing that reflected in the reporter's eyes was sorrow. Vaguely, she wondered how it had all come down to this.  
They had started out as heroes; a glimmer of hope and light in a city that had turned dark with corruption and despair. But somewhere along the way—after the nth betrayal and one heartbreak too many—trust had become the missing piece in the ever-crumbling puzzle. She saw now how hard they had tried to repair their cracks and holes with muddled lies and secrecy. For so long, she had been desperate to ride it all out on her own, straddling the barely-there line that separated the right from the wrong.

Now that she looked back on her time with Davis, she knew well that she had approached the situation in all the wrong ways, even if it had been for all the right reasons. She had wanted to save Davis, just as she had wanted to save Clark. It was all clear, even through the fog of her fading mind. But even as she recalled the past few months, she couldn't quite pinpoint when it was that they'd crossed the line, each for his or her own reason.

Her head lolled back against Oliver's arm, and she took a moment to just stare at a man that she had once loved—still loved. One of his arms was wrapped tightly around her as his other hand pressed over the hole in her chest. The sting that had once been unbearable was nothing more than a slight pressure now. A pleasant numbness had settled over her, making her limbs feel heavy, and her head clouded and dizzy. Throughout it all, Oliver sat holding her, mumbling things she couldn't hear, pleading with her to stay with him, despite the fact that they were hardly allies. They were on different sides now, in a manner of speaking. Technically, they were on opposite ends of the same side.

Opposite ends of the same side. When had that happened? When had they gone from playing heroes to being the villains?

She supposed it was when Oliver had killed Lex, and she had fallen in love with a monster.

And she did love Davis, so much. Admittedly, it wasn't the kind of love that she felt for Oliver. And it wasn't for all the reasons that someone should love another person. For years, Chloe had pined, swooned, and day-dreamed over men who were unavailable (emotionally and socially), absent, or flat-out uninterested; Clark, Whitney, Lex, Oliver. For years, she had been rejected, her heart stamped on, shattered, and ground into a fine-powder. By the time Davis had entered her life, it had become edged with doubt and uncertainty. Jimmy had become something of a safety net, their relationship one of convenience. She knew where she was going with Jimmy—her love life was just one less thing to worry about. She had settled. It was brutal, but it was the truth.

When Davis kissed her, she'd once again found herself falling for yet another tall, dark, and handsome. The only difference this time was that he wanted her back. It was why she'd allowed herself to be swept up so easily. So when she realized what was happening to him, she had been desperate to save him. But it had all been for nothing, because he was forever lost to the phantom zone, and she was lying in the arms of her would-be killer, bleeding to death in the middle of the road. A few feet away, the black kryptonite shone in the dim lighting, unused. Chloe had moved to use it just as Green Arrow had loosed his preferred projectile, and she had been directly in its path.

Even so, she couldn't quite bring herself to think of this situation the same way that Oliver did. She couldn't quite picture him as the monster he was making himself out to be. In a way, he was a savior—her savior. They both knew she wasn't going to make it out of this alive, and she was okay with that. Because Davis was gone; carried away to the fortress and thrown into a void from which he would never return, no matter his strength. Clark had gone AWOL, according to Bart. She was no longer Watchtower or Sidekick. She was a traitor to the League, and she would die a traitor.

_Oh, the irony_, she thought bitterly.

In order to save the lives of others, she had given up her own. She'd put everything into protecting the League's secrets and helping out other meteor infected, and it was for that very same reason that she was viewed as the villain. Chloe had assumed if ever she turned sides, it would be as a result of her meteor infection. Instead, it was because she'd made the mistake of falling in love.  
And wasn't that just one big joke? As she stared up at Oliver, she wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry, but found that it didn't matter, because she didn't have the energy for either. When they'd first teamed up, Chloe had admired Oliver from day one. Unlike Clark, he hadn't viewed her as fragile, nor had he treated her like glass. He'd trusted her with his life and the lives of every other member of the Justice League. The more time they had spent together, the more Chloe liked Oliver. She had always assumed her attraction was one-sided, but apparently she'd been wrong.

Chloe lifted a shaky hand, fingertips grazing the warm skin of his neck and threading through his blonde hair. Her eyes stung as tears formed and fell, tracing the tracks left behind by Oliver's regret. She tugged weakly, and he leaned forward to kiss her again, the motions more soft but just as desperate. When he pulled back, he watched Chloe's eyes crinkle as her lips pulled in that beautiful smile he loved so much. She let out a breathy laugh, too tired to manage much else. The laugh lacked any mirth; it was a sound of discontent, and it conveyed a hopelessness that Oliver had never witnessed in his Sidekick. "I wish…" Her voice was faint, and it sent a spike of fear through him. "I wish it could've been you…"

So did I, he wanted to stay. He still wished for it. "It still could be," he whispered in return, and Chloe's blonde bangs fluttered as his breath fanned her face. He knew he sounded desperate, but he didn't care. He could see clearly that she was fading fast, and he couldn't do anything more than he already had. He couldn't take her to the hospital on his bike, and he didn't want to move her any more out of fear of further injury. Bart had left for help a good seven minutes ago, but had yet to return.

_Damnit!_ he thought_, where the hell are those meteor powers when you need them?!_

"I don't think so, Ollie." Her eyes were half-lidded now, and she was visibly fighting to stay conscious. "I-I think we both know…how this is goi-ng to e-end." Her words were jumbled and garbled, and Oliver could only watch in sick fascination as blood bubbled from her lips and ran red lines, from the corners of her mouth, all the way down her chin and neck. Oliver grimaced and quickly averted his gaze away from the blood and to Chloe's dimming eyes.

Her admission made his heart ache, and he pulled her closer, purposely jostling her. He watched in satisfaction as her eyes opened wider and focused on him. Licking his lips, he tried to fight down the fear that knotted his stomach upon noting how pale she'd become.  
"C'mon, Chlo, you gotta fight this." He barely registered the ambulance's siren, squealing in the background. "Please, I don't want to lose you, not now." His blue eyes flickered back and forth between her green, and it took him a moment to realize that they were unfocused and still. No, this wasn't happening.

"No, no, no, no!!" The ambulance was closer, but now it didn't register at all. "No, no!! Please, Chloe! No!" He clutched her limp form to him, rocking back and forth, his face buried in her neck. He allowed his grief to consume him, let the ache in his heart be the only thing he felt. His shoulder's shook jerkily as he sobbed loudly. He wanted it to be a dream; he wished it all was a dream.

A breeze signaled Bart's arrival. His shoes padded a steady thrum against the asphalt as he slowed to a stop. As sound returned and Oliver's sobs registered, he became completely still, dread washing over him. He stared helplessly as his leader rocked the lifeless Watchtower. Bart ran his hands through his fire-red hair, fisting handfuls and tugging in frustration, horror, disbelief—at that moment, no single emotion took primacy over the others, his feelings eclectic. The entire scene was surreal, more so because of the dimming side lights and quiet atmosphere. It was like some kind of horrible nightmare, and Bart willed himself to wake with no result; it was real.  
The sirens in the background reminded him just how real, and Bart decided that if he didn't act quickly, Oliver Queen as Green Arrow was going to be front page material for the morning edition of the Daily Planet.

Bart approached Oliver carefully at first. He settled a hand on his leader's shoulder and shook it lightly.  
"Oliver," he said, "Come on, man. We've gotta get out of here, now." Oliver had gone quiet now, stilled his movement, but he did nothing to acknowledge Bart was even there. So the younger man tightened his grip and pulled hard. "Oliver!"

"No!" Oliver snarled, shoving Bart away roughly, while still keeping his hold on Chloe. He didn't bother watching the boy stumble over his own feet and land roughly on the ground. Any of the fear that Bart normally felt for his leader was gone, replaced by anxiety. He could see the ambulance, not two blocks away. The speedster launched himself at the leather-clad man, knocking Chloe from the older man's arms. They fought for a moment, Oliver struggling against Bart, who was trying to drag his boss back towards the warehouse with little success.

"Oliver!!" Bart shouted, finally. He was at an obvious disadvantage, not only because of his smaller stature, but because he was tired—so tired. Luckily, his shout seemed to bring his friend out of his angry daze.

They were running from the scene just as the ambulance slowed to a stop. The EMT's leapt from their seats, one of them dropping down beside Chloe's form as the other watched the two young superheroes retreat. The first EMT shook his head as he looked to his partner. "She's gone," he said with a sigh.

-

**A/N: **This is obviously an AU story. I started it up the day of the season finale, but then I forgot about it for a while, and started it up again today. It was just begging to be written. I saw Ollie almost shoot Chloe and my mind went, "Hmmmm…What if…?" And here we are. So, yes, much fun to be had. It's been a while since I've written something like this. Those who have read my other fic's have probably come to expect ridiculously depressing endings. There's another part, just a small bit I took off the end. A bit of a twist, if you will, but I just wasn't sure about adding it. I might add it later.

The season finale left me less than satisfied, so I had to write. As a Chloom fan, seeing the way they shrugged off Chloe and Davis' relationship made me want to break something valuable. The only good thing that came out of that finale was that Jimmy died! No offense to Jimmy fans, but the way they wrote his character in Smallville was just Epic!Fail.

Anyway, this is my first Chlollie/Chloom oneshot, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. I definitely plan on writing more with these pairings in the future.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Decided to add that little twist afterall. It's a little short, but I hope you guys like it. I'm not quite sure if this still qualifies as a oneshot anymore, but I'm not going to bother changing the description.

-

He walked down the hall slowly, welcoming the dream-like feeling that washed over him, if only because of the pleasant numbness that accompanied it. His body was on autopilot, his mind muddled and his thoughts carefully absent. He didn't want to think right now, didn't want to face what he was feeling, but in that moment Chloe's death was at the forefront of his thoughts. The scene played over and over in his mind. He could still hear the sound of the arrow as it whispered through the air and pierced through her chest. He could still feel her blood, slick on his hands. He could see the shock on her face, feel her lips on his, hear her whisper her thanks.

And suddenly, he was sliding down the glass windows in his living room, his breathing ragged, eyes wide, chest heaving. As he calmed, he became a little more receptive to his surroundings. Bart was asleep on the couch, snoring loudly, and clutching the remote to his chest (the next day, Oliver wouldn't mention the tear tracks on the boys face, just as Bart wouldn't mention his leader's break down). The TV was tuned into the news channel. Oliver paid no attention to the heading. Instead, he closed his eyes and focused on voices until his heart racing heart slowed.

"_It was insane!"_ the man on screen was saying. _"All my time as a coroner, I've never had someone come back to life!"_

Oliver's eyes snapped open.

"_She just got up and walked away."_


End file.
